


Advent 2016

by FormulaFerrari



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Advent Calendar, Christmas, Christmas Advent, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:38:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8852359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormulaFerrari/pseuds/FormulaFerrari
Summary: Advent Calendar 2016 - ratings/paring in chapter





	1. An Unfortunate Situation [T]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenson Button/David Coulthard

_Oh no._

This couldn’t be happening. Jenson refreshed the email once again; hoping the name at the bottom would change. But of course it didn’t. Of course _that name_ stayed at the bottom of the email. Sitting there all innocent as it struck panic and fear in the man who was reading it. Jenson shook his head, looking around the office. He was hoping to catch sight of someone else’s computer, see the email on their screen and notice that there was a different name in the footer. That way he could view his as a cruel joke and delete it.

Jenson read through the email again. He should have known this was going to happen, he should have known that this was going to come up. _He_ was the events manager, of course it would be down to _him_ to organise their Christmas party. Jenson dropped his head onto the desk, wincing a little at the pain thumping his head caused. Surely it would be little pain compared to what he would have to suffer. Maybe he could get out of going…

“I guess you didn’t win the euro million then?” Jenson sat up so fast the room spun. He grasped the desk to stabilise himself as he looked up at David, standing in front of his desk with a teasing smile. Jenson blushed, dropping his eyes back to the screen. “Or… Not…” Jenson’s eyes were locked on that name at the end of the Christmas party invitation. Oh, why did it have to be his name? “Jenson?”

“Huh?” Jenson was snapped out of his mental plans to get out of going to the Christmas party when David clicked his fingers in front of his face.

“It was a joke…” David said, holding his hands up in apology. Jenson ran a hand over his face.

“Yeah… I know…” The name was taunting him. Just sat there as if its sole purpose wasn’t to completely unhinge him.

“If it wasn’t the euro millions causing you to give yourself concussion then what was it?” David asked with intrigue. Jenson glanced at him before blushing a deep red and dropping his eyes back to his screen.

“Nothing…”

“Liar.” Before Jenson could blink, David was round his side of the desk, trying to look at his computer. The pair squabbled over the mouse for a moment, Jenson managing to get his emails minimized and out of sight but David eventually wrestled the mouse out of his hands, bringing the email with _that name_ back up on screen. The frown on David’s face got deeper as he read through the invite. “I don’t understand…”

“It doesn’t matter.” Jenson said, trying to unseat David from his position on his lap and grab the mouse from him. David effortlessly moved it out of Jenson’s reach.

“Why does a work doo make you smash your head against the desk? We’re not that bad company, are we?”

“I said it doesn’t matter.” Jenson stated, doubling his efforts to try and get the mouse away from David. David scrolled back down the email, frowning as he studied it, as if waiting for the mysterious reason to jump out of the screen at him.

“Oh…” Jenson stopped fighting David as the cursor hovered next to the name signing off the email. “Is it because-?”

“-I said it doesn’t matter.” Jenson spat, shoving David onto the floor. David looked up at Jenson as if he were a wounded animal whilst the Brit closed down his emails and resumed his work. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Sorry.” David said quickly, dropping his gaze. He got to his feet. “I don’t understand-”

“-I’m not sure how much clearer I need to be – drop it.” Jenson glared at his screen, trying desperately to focus on the work in front of him. But everything was blurring together. There was no hope.

David knew of the awkwardness that surrounded Jenson and... _him._ It had been no secret that the two had been together, or that the two were definitely no longer together. But to David Jenson had always been professional. David had seen the two of them in meetings together since the break up and unless you really knew you wouldn’t have thought there was anything wrong between them. Why would Jenson suddenly have such a problem with him?

“I can just listen… If you want to rant.” David offered, perching on Jenson’s desk. The Brit scoffed.

“I thought the staff room had enough gossip on me already.” He shot sourly. David folded his arms.

“You know I wouldn’t do that, Jense.” David chastened lightly. Jenson dropped his head in his hands.

“I know… I know…” He let out a deep sigh. David waited patiently for Jenson to start talking. “It not him…”

“Not him?” David clarified. Jenson nodded as he felt back in his chair, the momentum rocking him a little.

“It’s… God, this is going to sound so stupid.” Jenson groaned, returning to his position of his head in his hands. David moved beside him, rubbing his back lightly.

“Nothing you can say would be stupid. It’s hard having to be around someone all the time that you used to love.” David hated seeing Jenson like this. He hated what had happened to Jenson to make him feel so pathetic. It wasn’t fair on him.

“I can deal with him,” Jenson told his hands. “It’s just… If he’s there…” Jenson took a glance at David, showing the Scot how fragile he now was. It made David want to pull him into his arms. “I…” Jenson closed his eyes. “I don’t want to deal with his… Plus one…” From everything Jenson had told David about the break up, David could fully understand that.

“You don’t have to go.” David suggested. Jenson shook his head.

“Then that will look like I’m avoiding them.”

“But isn’t that what you want?”

“No. Well, yes but no.” Jenson dropped his head back into his hands, groaning in annoyance. “I wish it was only him coming. Then I could go and it would be equal. But with both of them… It just looks like I’ve not been able to move on…”

“… But you haven’t-” David started softly.

“-I don’t want them to know that!”

“No, but, Jense, it’s OK. It was only eight months ago. You’re allowed to have not moved on.”

“You don’t understand.” Jenson said, getting to his feet. “It’s bad enough having everyone around here look at me like I’m some abandoned puppy. I don’t want people in my business. I don’t want people talking behind my back, questioning how he’s been able to move on so easily whilst I still appear to be stuck in the past. It’ll make me look pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic.”

“But I’ll look it.”

“Who cares? Who cares what anyone else thinks. As long as you’re happy-”

“-But I’m not!” Jenson yelled, throwing his arms out. David sent him a pity-filled look without realising. Jenson deflated. “You know what, thanks, but I’m OK. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Jenson-”

“-No, it’s really… Ok…” Jenson sighed, sitting back down. David stood awkwardly for a moment, his mind turning at how to get Jenson to not have to face anything he was fearful of facing.

“What if… You didn’t go to the party on your own?”

“I’m not bringing my sister. That would be even more pathetic.” Jenson muttered, scrolling pointlessly up and down the document he was reading.

“No…” David said slowly, retaking his seat on the edge of Jenson’s desk. “What if you have a new partner too.”

“My last blind date didn’t go so well.” Jenson dismissed, his memory of the one and only date he had been on since he’d split from his ex rearing it’s ugly head.

“What if it wasn’t blind?”

“You’re suggesting I take someone I know? I tried dating friends before-”

“-No, look, I’m offering to go with you.” David said quickly. Jenson blinked at him.

“… Why?”

“I’m quite good arm candy.” David teased sheepishly. He was filled with warmth when it brought a smile to Jenson’s face.

“You’d really be happy to be seen all night with me?”

“Nothing would make me happier.” David smiled. It was so sincere that Jenson could really believe there was more than just a helpful, kind friend behind it. But that had burnt him before so he pushed the thought from his mind.

“As long as you’re sure…” David took Jenson’s hand in his, crouching so he was on one knee. A hot heat flooded Jenson’s body as he looked down at the man beside him.

“Jenson Button, please do me the honoured of being my fake boyfriend for the evening.” David asked with much drama. Jenson couldn’t help but laugh.

“I thought you were helping me out.”

“Well, it’ll look better for me if I’m not just hiding in the corner wishing to be anywhere but a social gathering with people I’m forced to spend too much time with. Plus, it’ll save me having to find you once I get there so I can remotely enjoy the evening.”

“Stop it, you’re making me blush.” Jenson said sarcastically.

“So… deal? Cause my knee kind of hurts…”

“Deal, old man.” Jenson poked. He was a little sad when David’s hand slipped away from his. It was sort of like David took some of the warmth in the room away with him. But at least now he could go to the party and not worry about looking like a pathetic mess. And with David by his side the party was bound to be much more enjoyable.  

\- - - - - -

He had definitely drunk too much. The room had begun swaying about an hour ago and it just wouldn’t stop. He knew leaving David in control of his drinks was going to end messy. But right now he was actually rather enjoying himself. David was being a very good fake boyfriend; making sure his glass was never empty and never letting him move further than and arms reach away. He should have probably forced David to come to the bathroom with him because now he had lost him. Though the suggestive look David had given him and the implications from the group they had been standing with made him believe venturing to the bathroom alone was the best way to keep some of his dignity intact.

“Nice to finally catch you alone.” Jenson spun round so fast upon hearing the voice he lost his footing. A familiar strong hand grabbed his bicep, keeping him on his feet. Jenson swallowed as a very familiar face tried to come into focus in front of him. He’d been trying so hard to avoid this.

“Likewise.” He slurred, gripping onto the supporting arm as he re-found his balance. The man took a step closer, using his body as something for Jenson to lean on.

“Fucking hell, you’re worse than Nano…” He muttered, but Jenson was close enough to hear. He tried to push away as the ice shot down his spine. “Come on, mate, you can’t even stand. I’m trying to help.”

“David will help.” Jenson huffed, trying pitifully to get out of the other man’s hold. If anything the grip got tighter. “Mark…”

“You should go home before you make an idiot of yourself.” Mark said quietly, stabilising Jenson once again. Jenson shook his head.

“You should go home. Bet someone is missing you by now.” Mark’s hold on Jenson released and the Brit hit the floor with a thump.

“I thought you’d learned to not dip your pen in the companies ink.” Mark shot harshly. “That pathetic and desperate you just stepped outside your office to find your next fuck-”

“-OK, up we get…” Jenson fell into the arms that were pulling him to his feet, Mark words carving themselves into his skin in hot sharp etchings. It wasn’t true, Jenson knew it wasn’t true, but was that really what it had looked like from the outside. “Let’s get some fresh air.” Jenson lost his bearings until he was outside, the cold British winter evening making him shiver instantly. He was sat on a bench as something warm was wrapped around his shoulders. “You alright?” Jenson looked up at the fuzzy form of David that was stood in front of him. He nodded once before shaking his head.

“… Home…” Jenson requested, looking at his feet. The arm wrapped around his shoulder let him know David had moved to his side.

“OK, I’ll take you home. Let’s just sober up a little first, yeah? Don’t want you falling over.” Jenson just nodded, still looking at the floor. “Hey…” His chin was encouraged to look up by David’s finger. For some reason’s David’s eyes were very easy to focus on. “Whatever he said was bollocks.”

“That’s what he thinks of me.” Jenson sulked, dropping his head again.

“He’s jealous that you’ve moved on from him. Even though this isn’t real he thinks it is and he doesn’t like that you’re not his anymore.”

“But he has Fe… Someone else…”

“I know. But tonight you showed him you’ve moved on and he doesn’t like that.”

“But _he_ moved on.”

“I know…” David rubbed Jenson’s arm. He sighed sadly at Jenson’s sad expression. “Oh, don’t be sad…” David crouched in front of Jenson, brushing the Brit’s hair out of his face. “I had a wonderful time being your fake boyfriend tonight.”

“I had a nice time being yours.” Jenson smiled a little. It wasn’t a lie; David had been an amazing fake boyfriend. Sometimes Jenson could have easily believed it was all real. Especially when David told the story of their first fake date. Jenson had been fully lost in the story. He wondered how David had come up with it. It was perfect, capturing all of Jenson’s favourite things in one evening.

“Perhaps we can do it again some time. I have a friend’s wedding coming up in the New Year.” David teased, helping Jenson back to his feet and securing him under his arm so he could walk him home. Jenson’s hands gripped tightly to David’s coat.

“I would like that.” Jenson nodded. David laughed lightly.

“I think I might ask you again when you’re sober.” He grinned. Jenson looked up at him seriously, stopping them from walking forwards.

“I hope you do.” The was something there, in Jenson’s eyes. It wasn’t big and it wasn’t significant, but it was there. A spark, a small potential that this happy coincidence of being helpful could lead to what David had always wanted. David knew not to push Jenson, but to let him get there in his own time. He’d been burnt once he wasn’t going to go rushing back into another relationship of the same dynamic.

David set them back off on their walk, happily joining in with Jenson’s dreadfully off-tune renditions of popular Christmas songs as they walked. There was no guarantee, but this Christmas had brought David some hope. And that was all he really wanted.


	2. If The Key Fits... [T]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fernando Alonso/Mark Webber

Mark looked at the unopened bottle of scotch that sat on the counter next to the television. It had been a spare of the moment purchase three weeks ago. He had been feeling shit; much like he did now, and decided the best way to deal with his problem was to drink it away. By time he had gotten home, however, he had gone off the idea. The scotch had sat unacknowledged up until this point, but Mark was now very much on the side of opening it and drinking himself into a stupor.

This was the first Christmas Mark was spending alone in a long time. When he was a kid he had always had Christmas with his parents and his family. Getting older and moving away had been hard, but he had always had… Even just thinking about the name was still too hard. Mark shook his head, pushing himself up from the chair he had slumped into. One hand grabbed the neck of the bottle as he moved towards the kitchen. He refused to sit here and mope. If he had to be here alone he sure as hell wasn’t going to remember it.

“Merry Christmas.” Mark muttered moodily, clinking his half full short tumbler against the now open bottle. He had settled himself back in the armchair he had taken to accommodating with the full understanding that he would just fall asleep right here whenever his body couldn’t fight the amount of alcohol he intended to pour into his body. Mindlessly, Mark flicked through the channels on the television, finding some crappy Christmas film to watch so he didn’t have to focus on anything apart from slowly drifting off to alcohol-induced sleep.

He was about halfway through the bottle when the tumbler hit the carpet. Luckily he had slumped low enough that his hand was only about an inch off the floor, meaning the glass didn’t break. He happily missed the end of the Christmas film where the girl and the boy rush to each other in a sudden blizzard of snow, just in time to tell the other they still loved them and couldn’t let them go. Mark wouldn’t have wanted to see that gushy crap anyway. It wasn’t like it was real. It wasn’t like that was what real life was like…

\- - -

Mark woke with a start at the sound of a bang. He sat upright quickly, his alcohol-fuzzed brain not as confused after his nap. Rubbing his eyes, Mark checked his watch. It had just gone four in the morning. He was officially alone on Christmas day. With that cheery little thought and the ache in his neck, Mark elected to retire to his bedroom, pull the duvet over his head and hope when he regained consciousness it was boxing day and this whole sorry holiday would be over with. He rubbed his neck as he got to his feet, collecting up his glass and the rest of his bottle of scotch in his free hand.

“Shhhhh!” Mark froze at the voice; his head snapping round to the doorway that lead to the hall. Someone else was in his house. Evidently that was what the bang was that woke him up: someone slamming the front door. He swallowed dryly, moving slowly as he placed the bottle and glass down on the coffee table.

“Ok… OK… Mmm OK..” Fear more than anything had Mark moving across to the adjacent room and picking up the heavy ornament his mum had got him last Christmas. He took a deep breath, moving slowly back into the living room.

“Key… Key important… Key goes in bowl like that…” The click of metal on china had Mark frowning. The trespasser had a key? “Shoes… Off… Off come shoes… One, two, yup… Shoes go here…” Mark was beyond confused. “And watch! Got to take off watch… We can put watch with keys so everything is safe…” Still holding the ornament – but not as aggressively anymore – Mark stepped out into the hallway. He had a horrible feeling that was just proved right.

“Fernando?!” Mark asked, completely in shocked as he watched his ex-boyfriend laying his watch oh so carefully next to the bowl of keys. Fernando turned his head towards him at the call of his name.

“Mark! Mark found me!” Fernando cheered, clapping his hands. Mark continued to frown at him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Mark asked, still bemused by the random appearance of his ex. Fernando’s eyes had locked on Mark’s hands.

“Always liked this.” Fernando smiled stupidly, stumbling towards Mark. “But have to put it safe.” Mark watched on as Fernando took the ornament from his hands and placed it with his watch next to the bowl of keys. “Everything safe.” Fernando nodded, looking very proud of himself. Mark shook his head, as if that would get rid of the bizarre scene that was unfolding in front of him.

“Fernando, what… What are you doing here?” Mark repeated. How much had he drunk?

“Is Christmas.” Fernando said cutely, smiling that stupid smile again. Mark cocked an eyebrow at him. Maybe the question he should be asking was how much had _Fernando_ drunk?

“Mate, you don’t…” Mark stopped himself. Fernando’s smile had dropped and now he was looking confused. Would it hurt to just indulge for one night? It was Christmas after all. And Fernando was clearly completely wasted. He’d probably crash out any moment. Mark let out a small sigh, putting a little smile on his face. Fernando emulated. “Alright, come on. Let’s… Put you to bed.” Mark said, reaching a hand out to Fernando. He only meant to take hold of Fernando’s shoulder or his hand but the Spaniard took it as an invite to curl into Mark’s embrace. It took Mark a moment to move them up the stairs, so lost in the memory of other moments just like this one.

After nearly taking them out twice as they walked up the stairs, Mark managed to get Fernando into his bedroom. He helped the Spaniard settle into the bed, catching him as Fernando tried to flop onto the bed but missed by a few feet. Fernando let out a content sigh, rolling onto his side and pulling one of Mark’s pillowed tightly into his embrace. Out of habit, Mark brushed the hair out of Fernando’s face, looking down at him fondly as Fernando looked adorably cute. Mark had to remind himself that it was Fernando’s drunken mind that had brought him back here, not the sober one that had stormed out with a poorly packed suitcase a month ago.

“Right, well… Night…” Mark said awkwardly, forcing himself to take his hand away from Fernando. He closed his eyes as he turned and headed for the door.

“Wait..” Fernando slurred sleepily. Mark looked back at him, Fernando already having his long hair mussed by the pillow. He looked the perfect combination of sexy and cute. Mark bit his lip, forcing himself not to rush to Fernando’s bedside.

“What?” Mark asked, keeping one hand on the door handle.

“Where you going?” Fernando asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Downstairs? Sofa?” This brought a pout to Fernando’s face. He threw back the duvet on the other side of the bed and patted the mattress. Mark dropped his head. “No, Fernando…”

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeaseee.” Fernando begged, using his best puppy dog eyes. Mark’s resistance was wavering.

“No…”

“Is Christmas!” Fernando protested. Mark closed his eyes.

“We’re not… No, Fernando. Just go to sleep.”

“Fine.” Mark frowned as Fernando stormed towards him, stumbling a little as the duvet he had dragged off the bed caught around his legs. “You go to bed.”

“I’m not making you sleep on the sofa, mate.” Mark said, keeping hold of the door handle. Fernando didn’t even try to leave.

“Well you are not being made to sleep on the sofa, mate.” Fernando said defiantly. Mark couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Is why you love me.” Fernando smiled, leaning up on his tiptoes to kiss Mark softly. Mark was so shocked he didn’t resist Fernando taking his hand and leading him to bed. It had been a while since he had kissed Fernando. He had thought about it a lot lately, just as he had thought about the man he loved a lot recently. So lost in his thoughts he barely realised Fernando was undressing him.

“Woah! Mate, what-?”

“-Calm down.” Fernando smiled, winking. It did nothing to calm Mark down.

“Fernando-”

“-More comfortably like this.” Fernando nodded, his fingers gliding over Mark’s now bare chest. Mark bit his lip hard; Fernando still affecting him exactly how he used to.

“Y-You’re drunk…” Mark swallowed, Fernando’s breath following the path his fingers had mapped out.

“Been thinking about you all night.” Fernando admitted quietly, his warm breath still tickling Mark’s abdomen.

“You’ve been drinking all night.” Mark corrected, his tone forced. Fernando just smirked up at him.

“Have been thinking about what I want to do…” Fernando muttered, dragging his fingers lightly down Mark’s sides. The Australian couldn’t help but squirm. “Your body…” Mark went to grab Fernando’s wrist as the Spaniard started tracing patterns across his abs but he was stopped as Fernando straddled his hips. “Miss you.” Fernando breathed, nuzzling at Mark’s face. Mark was slipping back into that headspace from a month ago. With Fernando here, his body in his hands… Mark was submitting to the overwhelming feelings that were returning to his body.

It was Christmas. One night of fantasy couldn’t hurt.

Mark kissed Fernando gently at first, still fearful that any moment the Spaniard could start yelling at him and storm out. Mark didn’t want that. He wanted to have Fernando right here, safe in his arms. He brushed his fingers softly through Fernando’s silky curls, pulling their bodies closer until not even the air could get between them. Fernando was kissing him back with much passion, his hands exploring every inch of Mark as if it were the first time.

“I love you.” Mark muttered daringly quietly as Fernando started to kiss down his neck, his hands exploring lower. Mark started fighting with Fernando’s shirt, dragging it over the Spaniard’s head as the younger man kicked off his jeans. Lips locked back onto the sensitive skin of Mark’s neck. The Australian was powerless to the onslaught, his hands merely tangling into Fernando’s hair as he sunk into the pleasure that was being inflicted on his body.

Cute, tickly kisses made Mark smile until the pressure of Fernando’s lips subsided. Mark took the moment to catch his breath, but it became apparent that Fernando had stopped kissing him, and stopped moving. Mark opened his arms, frowning down at the man in his arms.

“Nano…?” Mark asked gently, shaking the Spaniard a little. He got a tired grumble in response as the Spaniard shuffled into a more comfortable position lying on top of Mark. Mark couldn’t help but laugh, rolling his eyes in a ‘typical’ fashion. “Lightweight.” Mark muttered, brushing the hair out of Fernando’s face tenderly. Flicking off the bedside lamp, Mark rearranged Fernando so he was more comfortably against him.

Sure, it wasn’t exactly how he’d hoped the night would end, but spending Christmas night not alone with the man he loved back in his arms was a vast improvement on his initial plans.

\- - - - -

There was light coming from somewhere. It hurt to try and look at. Great, that meant he was probably hung over. He was certainly going to kill Jenson when he next got his hands on him. He was doing fine before the Brit took over his drinks.

Fernando rubbed his eyes, trying to ignore the soft hammering coming from inside his head. He didn’t actually know how much he had drunk or what the hell had happened last night. He was just grateful Jenson had clearly dragged him home and not allowed him to do anything stupid.

Or so he had thought.

“Morning, sleepy head.” Fernando would have happily disappeared under the duvet. Or drank an entire bottle of tequila or Jägerbombs. Anything but face _that voice_. Tentatively, Fernando opened his eyes, looking to the left. Mark couldn’t have looked like he was enjoying this situation more if he tried.

“Oh god…” Fernando dropped his head into his hands, desperately searching his head for any indication of what happened last night. His mind drew a blank.

“Alright, I’m not that bad, am I?” Mark teased, leaving the bed. Fernando shook his head, about to tell Mark that of course he wasn’t that bad. That was until Fernando noticed he was only wearing his underwear.

Oh how he was going to kill Jenson.

“¡Dios mi!” Fernando moaned, gripping tightly to the duvet and pulling it up to his neck. He had so had sex with his ex last night when he had been drunk and didn’t know what he was doing. What was Mark going to think of him?! Fernando shook his head. No, he was going to be adult and face this head on. Wrapping the duvet around him tightly, Fernando followed Mark from the room.

“Mark, what-” Fernando stopped talking at the bottom of the stairs, a frown on his face. His watch was laid out neatly next to the bowl of keys and that ornament Mark’s mum had gotten them a couple of years ago. He always loved that ornament. Clearly his drunken mind had had some sense. Fernando cocked his head at the ornament though; that didn’t live out here by the keys. Unless Mark moved it but that seemed random and odd and not like something Mark would consciously take effort in doing. What if Fernando had tried to attack Mark with it last night?! Oh God, what had he done?

“Mark- You are cooking.” Fernando observed, walking into the kitchen. Mark just nodded, his back to Fernando as he focused on the frying pan.

“Full English is the best cure for a hang over.” Mark said. Fernando just blinked at him.

“You are wearing clothes.”

“Well, yes. People do tend to do that.” Mark laughed.

“You are cooking for me and wearing clothes.”

“Is today obvious day or something?”

“No….” Fernando said slowly, taking a seat. None of the pieces were really adding up at the moment. He had half expected Mark to be in a similar state to him. If Mark had been sober last night… What the hell had happened?

“You OK?” Mark asked, taking the seat opposite Fernando and sliding a coffee across the table to him. Fernando just nodded, his eyes still vacant as he took a sip of the perfectly-made coffee. “So, I guess it was a big night last night?”

“Sad singles thing…” Fernando commented, not really thinking about it. Mark frowned at him.

“Sad single-?”

“-What happened last night?” Fernando said suddenly, his eyes snapping to Mark. “I mean… Did we…?”

“No.” Mark said, sipping his own coffee. Fernando didn’t need to know that they would have done had Fernando not passed out on top of him. Fernando nodded slowly. “I was going to take the sofa but…”

“But?” Mark ran his finger around the rim of his mug.

“… You wouldn’t let me…”

“Oh…”

“So… I mean… Are you going to make a habit of breaking in whenever you get pissed? I didn’t even know you still had a key-”

“-I broke in?!” Fernando panicked. Mark held a hand up to him.

“No, no, you let yourself in the front door. With your key. I just… I wasn’t expecting you.”

“What time?”

“About four.”

“You were asleep…?”

“Yes, you woke me up.”

“Sorry…”

“No matter. It was quite entertaining to watch you methodically place everything in their correct places.” Mark smiled. Fernando couldn’t help but laugh.

“Am never going out with Jenson again.” Fernando grinned, taking another sip of coffee.

“… Jenson?”

“Yes, is… A friend.” Fernando cleared his throat.

“Oh…”

“No! I mean… Not like that.”

“Well, from your state last night your friend knows how to have a good time. Or you’ve become even more of a lightweight than I remember.”

“Hey!”

“Come on, it’s true and you know it.” Mark poked, getting up to check on their breakfast. Fernando watched him for a second, cradling his mug in his hands.

“Mark?”

“Hmm?”

“… Thank you.”

“For what?” Mark asked, frowning over his shoulder at Fernando. Fernando met his eyes.

“For not kicking me out. I know… Was not exactly fair of me… Did not need to put up with me.”

“No worries, Nano.” Mark smiled lightly. Fernando lit up as Mark used his pet name. Mark served up their food, moving back over to Fernando and placing his plate in front of him. “Don’t you have Christmas plans?”

“Not really…” Fernando said, looking at his plate.

“Oh… Well… You don’t have to, but you’re… You’re more than welcome to spend the day with me.”

“Do not have plans?”

“I’ll call the folks at some point.” Mark shrugged. “Apart from that not really. Was just gonna find some shit to watch on the television.”

“Sounds perfect.” Fernando smiled. Mark couldn’t help but emulate.

“Good.” Laughing a little, Fernando held his mug out towards Mark.

“Merry Christmas, Mark.” He grinned. Mark clinked their mugs together.

“Merry Christmas, Fernando.” Maybe he wouldn’t spend Christmas alone after all. 


	3. Cancelled [G]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fernando Alonso/Sebastian Vettel

This could not be happening. Sebastian shook his head as he looked at the departure board. Not today. Not today of all days. He knew he should have said he couldn’t make that sponsor event. It had always been a risk. Always been cutting it too fine. And now it had bit him in the arse. Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, looking back up at the departure screen. Nope. Still Cancelled.

It was Christmas Eve and his flight home to his family had been cancelled.

Talking to the man behind the information desk confirmed the one thing he had been desperate to avoid: he was stuck here overnight. He had a few options of what to do with his now free time. He could stay in the departures lounge overnight or he could check into a hotel. Staying at the airport meant that he’d be able to get on the first possible flight in the morning, but a hotel meant a real bed and a decent night’s sleep rather than curling up on an uncomfortable airport lounge chair.

There was no point in getting worked up or angry at this moment. There was nothing he could do to get home any faster. The blizzard that had cancelled his flight was supposed to have cleared by the morning, so hopefully he could get home as soon as possible tomorrow morning to enjoy as much of his Christmas Day with his family as possible.

Sebastian walked out into the light snow that was settling on the ground. He’d conceited that a decent night’s sleep would be preferable to a rough one. With a hotel merely a ten minute walk away he would set his alarm early enough for him to get the first flight available to take him home. Wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck and zipping up his coat, Sebastian started on dragging his case through the snow towards the hotel.

“… But you cannot do anything about this…. I know and it annoys me too, but you will be here as soon as you can be… I know…” Sebastian let the other people around him phase in and out of his consciousness. It was bloody cold and all he was thinking about was shit TV and a warm duvet. “I am but I will come back in the morning and get you… I know… Love you too…” When Sebastian got into the hotel and was warmer he would call his family, let them know that his flight had been cancelled and he was stuck until the morning. He knew they would be disappointed but he would get there as soon as he could to make it up to them.

He was thinking about Christmas Dinner with his family when suddenly he was falling backwards.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” Sebastian outburst, clambering to his feet. The person he had walked into stood as well, brushing his coat down from the snow it had picked up.

“Maybe you should watch-” Sebastian glared at the other man as he suddenly stopped talking. His anger dropped into shock.

“Fernando?”

“Sebastian?” The Spaniard said, nothing but confusion on his face. Sebastian looked around as if the answer would be somewhere in his surroundings.

“What are you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” Fernando said, folding his arms. Sebastian wasn’t sure if it got colder or if Fernando’s frosty attitude was the reason behind the drop in temperature.

“I’m trying to get home.” Sebastian said, as if it was the most obvious thing to be doing. Fernando’s jaw unlocked from its tight placement.

“Oh…”

“You?”

“I was…. Picking someone up.”

“Well, do not let me get in the way.” Sebastian huffed, collecting up his case and heading off to the hotel again.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Hotel. Flight cancelled.” Sebastian called back over his shoulder, not stopping to talk to Fernando. The Spaniard jogged up to him.

“You know that will probably be fully booked, right.” Fernando stated. Sebastian glared at him.

“Not like I have a lot of choice.” Fernando grabbed his shoulder as he made to move off.

“I…” He let out a deep breath. “I have a spare room.”

“You seem very enthusiastic for me to use it.” Sebastian said sarcastically, shrugging Fernando off. Fernando rolled his eyes.

“Look… I know we do not always see eye to eye but… Is Christmas. Just… Is just a spare room. If you want you can sit in it all evening and pretend am not there.” Sebastian narrowed his eyes a little, as if trying to read the double motive off Fernando.

“You don’t like me.” Sebastian said sceptically.

“Does not mean I cannot help you.” Fernando said, pulling his coat closer to himself against the cold. “Have to come back here again tomorrow morning myself so can bring you back.”

“Why are you helping out?” Sebastian asked, highly weary of Fernando’s offer at this point.

“Is Christmas. Is about spending time with family. Sucks that mine is not here and you cannot get to yours so… So I thought I would help.” Fernando shrugged. “Unless you would prefer to sleep in the hotel or on a bench. Then by all means do not let me stop you.” With another shrug, Fernando turned and headed back to his car. Sebastian let out a frustrated grunt before trudging through the snow behind Fernando.

“You’re an arse.”

“Most people say ‘Thank you’.” Fernando teased, opening the boot of his car. Sebastian stuck his tongue out at him as he pushed his cause into the back of the car.

“You have heated seats?”

“Of course.” Fernando nodded, closing the boot as Sebastian climbed into the passenger seat. He let out a deep breath as Sebastian slammed his door. “Should get a medal for this…” Fernando muttered, heading to the drivers seat. “One comment about my driving and you are walking to mine.” Fernando warned as he got in the car. Sebastian continued to fiddle with his seat.

“Fine.” Fernando blinked at him, closing his door.

“Do make yourself comfortable.” Fernando said sarcastically. He shook his head when Sebastian ignored him, continuing to play with his seat, starting up the car.

“Who was the last person to sit here? A giant?”

“Just… Friend.” Fernando said quietly. Had Sebastian not been fiddling with the seat warmer he would have seen the light blush on Sebastian’s cheeks.

“How do I get this thing working?” Sebastian gritted, twisting yet another dial in the centre of the car.

“Oh… Yeah, your side does not work.” Fernando smirked, looking out the windscreen. Sebastian narrowed his eyes at him. “Been meaning it get that fixed…” The Spaniard made a big deal about turning his own seat heater on, complimenting how it was just what he needed after standing in the outdoor chill.

“Arse…” Sebastian muttered, folding his arms.

\- - - -

Sebastian was drying his hair when there was a knock on the door. He rolled his eyes, going with the option of ignoring it. If he pretended this wasn’t Fernando’s house and Fernando wasn’t the one knocking on the door he could just pretend he was in another hotel.

The only issue with this plan is that Fernando didn’t seem to want to leave him alone.

“Sebastian?”

“What?” Sebastian exasperated, discarding his towel onto the bed.

“I just-”

“-That meant talk not come in!” Sebastian shrieked, diving for his towel and trying to cover himself as Fernando let himself into the room.

“Sorry…” Fernando blushed, gluing his eyes on the carpet from the floor. “I, erm, I just wondered… You wanted coco? Or the shower is OK?” Fernando shook his head. “Sorry… I go-”

“-No, no, is OK.” Sebastian said, securing his towel around his hips. “I just didn’t expect you to come in.”

“I can leave-”

“-The shower was good… Thanks.” Sebastian said sheepishly. Fernando looked up at him, partially to check if he was being sincere. “Made up for the broken seat warmer.” Sebastian joked. Fernando let out a breathy laugh. “Um… You said about…?”

“I am making hot chocolate.” Fernando explained. “Is a tradition. We always…” The blush was back on Fernando’s cheeks, his eyes back on the floor. “I mean….”

“I would love one.” Sebastian smiled kindly. “Thank you.”

“OK.” Fernando nodded. “Would you like marshmallows and cream?”

“Now that’s the kind of hotel service I like.” Sebastian beamed. Fernando breathed out a laugh.

“Guess you would like it as room service then?”

“Was actually thinking of checking out the lobby. Have heard the lounge is pretty good.”

“Makes a damn good hot chocolate.” Fernando winked, leaving Sebastian in peace. Sebastian couldn’t help but smile as he got dressed. When he left Fernando’s spare room to head to the kitchen a pleasant smell of hot chocolate filled the air. Sebastian took a deep breath in as he headed down the stairs.

“One hot chocolate.” Fernando nodded, placing it on the kitchen table for Sebastian. Sebastian nodded his thanks, sitting down and taking it into his hands. “Do not get a tip for this? I give you complementary chocolate sprinkles.” Fernando pointed out in a joke. Sebastian smiled wider.

“How about I pay you in driving tips?”

“Am not above making you sleep in the garden.” Fernando said, taking his own hot chocolate and heading into the front room. Sebastian followed him.

“Nah, I don’t think you hate me that much.”

“Do not hate you.” Fernando said, settling on the sofa. Sebastian sat on the other end.

“No? Could have fooled me.” He added in a mutter. Fernando looked across at him.

“Do not hate you, Sebastian. You just… Annoy me.”

“Ahh good. That’s much better.”

“Do not act like you don’t hate me.” Fernando said, sipping on his drink.

“I only hate you cause you hate me.” Sebastian shrugged, taking a sip of his own drink.

“Do not hate you. You irritate me.”

“Ok, then you irritate me. Happy now we have the correct verb?”

“Shut up.”

“You started it.”

“See is this, is exactly this. Are so childish.” Fernando vented, turning the television on. Sebastian bit his tongue; it wasn’t worth the retort he had thought up.

“… I’m sorry.” Sebastian said, his eyes on the television, after a period of silence. Fernando looked round at him.

“What?”

“I don’t mean to irritate you. And I do really appreciate this. You didn’t have to put me up for the evening and you have… So thank you… Again.”

“You are welcome.” Fernando said, looking back at the television. A peaceful truce settled between the pair as they fell into the Christmas film Fernando had found. Both laughing and smiling at the same parts. For one evening they happily put their differences to the side. Because tonight they were in the same boat. Both of them were split from their families because of the blizzard, and that feeling was something they could both relate and empathise with.

\- - - -

“Thanks again.” Sebastian said as Fernando pulled up in the short stay car park. Fernando smiled in Sebastian’s direction.

“Was no trouble. Nice to have the company.”

“Saved us both spending the evening alone.” Sebastian agreed. There was an awkward moment of silence.

“Well, do not want you to miss another flight.” Fernando said, clapping his hand on his leg as he opened the door. Sebastian watched him climb out of the car before following suit.

“What do you have planned for today then?”

“Usual Christmas stuff; opening presents, quiet Christmas lunch and then veg out in front of the television.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“It will be.” Fernando said with a love-filled smile. Clearly he was thinking about who it was he was about to pick up. “How about you?”

“Hey?”

“Your Christmas Day?”

“Ahh, yeah, gonna be perfect. Spending all day with the girls and then my parents are coming over for dinner. I should be cooking but my Mum will try and take over at some point.”

“Sounds like my parents. Cannot stand to let their kids do all the work.”

“Especially the Mums.” Sebastian laughed. Fernando pulled his suitcase out of the boot setting it on the floor.

“Everything?”

“Yeah, that’s everything. Again, thanks for putting me up last night.”

“Well, could not exactly leave you to freeze. Ferrari may have killed me.”

“Oh I see, the real reasons are coming out now.” Sebastian teased. Fernando held out his hand.

“Have a lovely Christmas, Sebastian.” Fernando smiled. Sebastian clutched his hand tightly, shaking it with confidence and a smile.

“You too, Fernando.” He nodded. The pair parted, with Fernando waiting by his car as Sebastian headed towards departures. It had not been as bad as he thought it would be last night. In fact, Fernando had made for decent company. It was refreshing to be in a room with him and not be snarky or sharp with each other. Maybe Fernando and he had managed to turn over a new leaf.

“Oph.”

“Sorry, mate.” Sebastian barely caught sight of the man who had bumped into his arm. But then again he’d recognise that figure anywhere. Even if he didn’t that accent was a dead give away. Sebastian grinned to himself as he headed through the security gates. He knew he’d recognised the jumper Fernando had been snuggled up in since last night.

Sebastian got on his plane happy, safely in the knowledge that both Fernando and he would be surrounded by their families for Christmas very soon.


	4. The Most Precious Gift [T]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitch Evans/Carlos Sainz Jr

“This is ridiculous.”

“Calm down. It’s just a Christmas gift.”

“But what if he doesn’t give me anything? It will be so obvious.”

“He’ll get you something.”

“But how do you _know_?” The boy lying back on the bed rolled his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

“I don’t, Mitch. But he will. I bet.”

“Alex, you’re not helping.” Mitch exasperated, flopping down beside his friend. Alex looked over at him.

“What did you get him then?”

“Yeah, like fuck I’m telling you.”

“Mitch-”

“-It doesn’t matter cause I’m not gonna give it to him.” Mitch said defiantly, sitting up. Alex followed him.

“This present you’ve been working on since the moment you met him you’re not going to give him?” Alex said in a disbelieving tone. Mitch folded his arms.

“I haven’t been doing it since I met him…”

“Alright, give or take a week-”

“-Alex-!”

“-Look, just give it to him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He could know I have a stupid crush on him.” Mitch pouted.

“So?”

“Ugh, fuck off, Alex.” Mitch huffed, falling back on the bed and pushing his pillow over his face.

“Maybe he has a stupid crush on you? Maybe it’ll be like a cheesy Christmas film. You’re eyes will meet over his gift, he’ll know it’s from you and what it means, his dreams will be complete as he realises the pretty kiwi that does nothing but stare at him over breakfast and spit coffee down himself when he forgets to swallow before talking is deeply and emphatically in love with him.” Alex finished by throwing his hand over his forehead and falling backwards beside Mitch. This got him the pillow to his stomach.

“I swear I told you to fuck off.”

“Come off it, Mitch, you’re gonna give him that gift. You put too much into it. You’ve been hiding it away for months.”

“Have not.”

“Have so!” Alex laughed, shoving Mitch lightly. Mitch secured a pout onto his face.

“We should have done a Secret Santa.”

“And what good would that have done?”

“I could have given it to him and he’d have never known it was from me.”

“What, you mean you haven’t signed it ‘love mitchy-poos xxx’”

“I swear to God, Lynn.” Mitch glared as Alex laughed. Alex got to his feet.

“Alright. I’ll leave you in peace with your predicament. Let me know when you find a solution.” Alex grinned, ruffling Mitch’s hair as he vacated the room. Mitch glared at the ceiling as if it had personally wronged him. He didn’t really know why he had asked for Alex’s help. Alex had the romantic knowledge of a snail.

Mitch punched his pillow into shape, letting out a deep breath. Maybe he could just leave the present under their little tree and not sign it from him. Maybe he would think it had been sent to him or something. However, that didn’t sit well with Mitch. He’d put a lot of work into that present, he wanted to see the reaction to it. Just to finish off the circle, that put Mitch back in the position of having to hand him a present that practically screamed ‘I love you”.

Mitch threw the pillow into the air, punching it out of the way before it fell. There had to be a way around this. Mitch picked up his phone, scrolling through the contacts in desperation of finding one that could actually help him. But no one seemed like a good option.

Maybe the answer was give him the present and then don’t come home after the holidays; just stay in New Zealand and rue his stupid decision and his stupid crush.

\- - -

“Do you know if Mitch got me something for Christmas?” Alex nearly chocked on his cornflakes as the sheepish question was asked across the table at him. He blinked the tears out of his eyes, guzzling on his orange juice as he regained his breath.

“W-What?”

“I, erm… I wanted to get him something… Only pequeño, erm, small… A small thing…” Alex watched the blush spread on the boy’s face opposite him.

“I’m not sure Mitch likes small things.” Alex muttered to himself in a suggestive manner. Clearly, however, the other boy heard him.

“Do not understand. Not something small?”

“No, erm, no. No, small is good.”

“But you say-”

“-Mitch will love anything you get him.” Alex reworded. He wondered if he’d said too much but clearly the English to Spanish translation hadn’t picked up on the hidden message in Alex’s words.

“Vale… But he gets me something?”

“Err, yeah. Yeah he has a… Little something for you.” Alex said, trying to hide the uncertainty in his voice. The boy looked relieved.

“Good… Good.” Satisfied, the boy got to his feet and headed back out of the room, taking his cup of coffee with him. Alex watched him go, wondering a little if either of his house mates had thought to get him a present for Christmas, or had they just been too wrapped up in each other? He rolled his eyes, digging back into his cornflakes. How could they be so obvious from the outside but so clueless from inside?

\- - - -

“Alright, this one is for me.” Alex smiled, pulling the gift from under the tree. As the three of them were heading back to their own homes for Christmas they were having an early house Christmas this evening. It had started with Alex nearly burning down the house with the turkey and Carlos working some sort of magic to restore it to something edible. Now, sated on half-decent food, they were onto gift giving. Mitch could see the snowman wrapped present he’d been holding hostage in his room until an hour ago. It looked so innocent under the tree. The urge to steal it back and just give Carlos something else grew ever larger in his chest.

“To Alex, from Mitch.” Alex read. “Aww, I don’t get any love?”

“You get enough love on a regular basis to not need any more from me.” Mitch teased, sipping on his mulled wine (something else Carlos had managed to save from Alex’s attempt to burn everything).

“True that.” Alex winked, pulling at the wrapping paper. The smile grew on Mitch’s face as the book fell into Alex’s lap.

“For our future Formula One star.” Mitch teased. Carlos couldn’t help but grin as Alex examined the copy of _Racing for Dummies_ that was now in his hands. “After I thrashed you at our last go kart session I thought you could use some tips.”

“You’re funny, Evans.” Alex said, smacking Mitch’s knee with the book. “I might have to take back that bean-bag chair now…”

“Ahh, nope. No backsies.” Mitch winked, taking another sip of his drink.

“Ok, next-”

“-No!” Mitch nearly threw his drink across the room as Alex started pulling the snowman present from under the tree. Carlos and Alex frowned at the Kiwi. “Just, erm… That one later.”

“Special?” Alex asked, smirking as he placed the present back down. The heat crept up Mitch’s neck.

“Just… Later.” Mitch muttered, taking a long drink. Alex set him a wink before pulling another present out from under the tree.

“To Alex, from Carlos.” Alex smiled, settling back into his seat.

“All seem to be for Alex now.” Carlos smiled, laughing lightly.

“Alex’s don’t have to wait for later.” Alex muttered, just loud enough for Mitch to hear. Mitch glared at him.

“I think now maybe Mitch and I shop in the same place.” Carlos giggled as Alex held up the _Cooking for Dummies_ book.

“A theme is occurring…” Alex surmised, holding both books as if weighing them up.

“You could have really done with that earlier, mate.” Mitch poked. “Does it tell you how to not burn down your house in there?”

“Believe is chapter one.” Carlos added, joining in the teasing.

“Alright, maybe some more presents, yeah?” Alex said, diving back under the tree. Mitch caught Carlos’ eye as they continued to laugh at their friend. He was not expecting the wink that got sent to him from the Spaniard. It made him feel like he’d missed the bottom step of a staircase, the heat crawling up his neck. His mouth went dry and he dropped his eyes to avoid an awkward moment. “Mitchy-poo.” Alex sang, wiggling his hand holding a small parcel wrapped in plain red paper. “This one is for you.”

“Thanks, Santa.” Mitch said, taking the present from Alex. His stomach looped as he saw the snowman present reappear.

“Not from Santa. _Carlos._ ” Alex said, wagging his eyebrows as he took another drink. Mitch rolled his eyes, sitting up so he could fully focus on his present.

“Santa Carlos.” Carlos smiled, adding what felt a bit like an awkward joke. Mitch sidestepped it, carefully pulling away the wrapping paper. He frowned as something soft and black fell into his lap. “… Is because-”

“-Chili…” Mitch smiled, picking up the little penguin toy that had fallen into his lap. it had big blue eyes and a red ribbon around it’s neck that labelled it “Chili.”

“You always call me it so I thought…”

“It’s… Great.” Mitch beamed, stroking the penguin’s fur tenderly. Now he had his own Chili. One he could take home with him over Christmas. “Thanks, Carlos.” Alex looked between the pair of them, at the gushy love-filled look on Mitch’s face and the slightly disappointed one on Carlos’.

“No, Mitch, you were supposed to say ‘Thanks, _Chili_.’” Alex corrected, making Carlos blush. He turned to the Spaniard, adding: “Amateur.”

“It’s perfect, _Chili_.” Mitch stressed for Alex’s benefit. He turned to Carlos. “Thank you.”

“Are welcome.” Carlos beamed.

“Well… I think that leaves us with one more.” Alex smirked, his fingers tapping on the snowman wrapping paper. Mitch took a deep breath. “For Carlos, I think… From-”

“-I think we can work out who it’s from.” Mitch inputted. His tone was jokey but the look he shot Alex was telling the Brit to get on with it.

“To Chili, from Mitch.” Alex read without looking at the tag, sliding the present towards the Spaniard. Mitch took another long drink of his wine, subconsciously sitting the penguin in his lap.

“Thank you, Mitch.” Carlos smiled, placing the present in his lap.

“You haven’t opened it yet.” Alex nudged, poking Carlos with his toe. “Open it.”

“I can?” Carlos asked Mitch. Mitch opened his mouth to speak but he never got a word out.

“Of course you can. That’s the idea of this evening: burnt dinner, exchange gifts.” Alex said, his eyes locked on the present in Carlos’ hands. Clearly he was pretty intrigued as to what Mitch had gotten Carlos.

“Ok…” Carlos nodded. With one more fleeting look at Mitch Carlos took a deep breath, pulling carefully at the paper.

“Just tear it!” Alex said, his intrigue getting the better of him. Carlos blushed, pulling a bit more enthusiastically at the paper. He was a little confused when the dark brown book fell into his lap. It had no title on the cover, so to discover what Mitch had done he opened the book at a random page.

“Is….?” Carlos was lost for words. He flicked through the next few pages, his fingers dragging carefully over the hand-written words.

“That’s Spanish? You wrote in Spanish?” Alex asked Mitch, his eyes flicking between the book that Carlos was looking through at the Kiwi who had gone very quiet.

“It’s-” Mitch started.

“-Are recipes! Are all recipes!” Carlos said excitedly. Mitch risked a look at him.

“You said you liked to cook and wanted to cook like your Dad does… So I-”

“-Spaghetti Matador!” Carlos squeaked excitedly. “Is all in Spanish.” He was in awe.

“I made a couple of calls. I didn’t want to get anything wrong so I… I may have called your Mum.” Mitch winced at the revelation. It made him sound creepy and weird. ‘Hey, I met you three months ago but I’ve already called and emailed your mum so I could write you a special cook book in Spanish.” He should have brought him a jumper or something.

“Mitch…” Carlos was lost for words. Mitch had put so much into this little cookbook just for him. He’d called his mum and probably tried to write out something in a language he didn’t understand just so Carlos could have this recipe book. It had his Dad’s traditional Spaghetti Matador and his Grandmother’s recipe for Cocido Madrileño. He couldn’t believe how much Mitch had done for him. And all he’d got him was a silly penguin.

“It was just a thought I had and-” The end of Mitch’s sentence was lost as Carlos’ lips met his. The Spaniard had moved over to him, catching his chin with his finger and tipping his head up so he could press their lips together. His fingers curled into Mitch’s short hair as he pushed himself closer to the Kiwi. He was grateful when suddenly his passion was matched and Mitch’s arms came around him, pulling him closer still.

“Gracias, mucho gracias.” Carlos breathed between kisses, his hold on Mitch tighter. “Is perfect, are perfect, are… mucho gracias.”

“You’ve have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to do that.” Mitch muttered, nuzzling at Carlos’ cheek. “If I’d have known all it would have taken was a cookbook I’d have given it to you weeks ago.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” Carlos said, looking deep into Mitch’s eyes. Brushing the hair out of his face Mitch nodded, cupping Carlos’ cheek and bringing their lips back together.

“Finally!” Alex said, falling back onto the floor dramatically. Carlos and Mitch couldn’t help but laugh at him as he started to ramble on about how he could finally stop tiptoeing about them and pretending it wasn’t obvious how much they liked each other. Mitch softly kissed Carlos’ forehead, bringing the Spaniard’s attention back to him.

“Merry Christmas, Carlos.”

“Feliz Navidad, Mitch.” He beamed, pulling Mitch close for another kiss.


	5. And It's Go for the First Channel 4 Snowball Fight! [G]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No relationship. Full grid + Channel 4 team

“OK, is everyone in their positions?” Steve called through the megaphone. This had been a wonderful idea in his opinion. The Channel’s way of trying to keep the Formula One interest up through the winter break. The stage had been fabricated because, although you could rely on the British winter weather freezing you to death, the chance of snow was low and random. Even if it did snow there was no guarantee that the snow would set or there would be enough for their plan. So fake snow it was.

The scene looked perfect though. McLaren had been kind enough to lend out their vicinity for the epic battle that was about to go down. The lake had been frozen over, giving ‘track limits’ to the battle arena. Channel 4 had brought all of the snow earlier that morning, and now the time for waiting was over. The first of Channel 4’s inter-team Snowball Fight was ready to begin.

Once all the teams had signalled they were ready behind their forts, Steve turned back to the camera crew. They had the whole presenting crew around for the event. Steve had been pretty excited when Channel 4 had approached him about helping with the Formula One coverage team, but had they have told him they were planning a annual inter-team Snowball Fight at the end of the year he’d have signed up much faster.

“Ok, we all ready to go here?” The director said. Hair and makeup finished off the final touches as the presenters got ready to start the broadcast. The usual countdown was shown before the director pointed to Steve. With a deep breath and a winning smile, Steve raised the microphone to his lips.

“It’s been a month since the 2016 World Champion was announced. A month without racing has been driving all of us round the bend. We’re here today to settle your need for speed with Channel 4’s first ever Annual Formula One Snowball Fight!” The team waited for the title credits to play through, a special Christmas edition, before Steve carried on talking.

‘You all thought the Championship fights and the team controversy was over, but really it’s just beginning. Today we settle the most important question in Formula One: which team can win the first every Snowball Fight. DC, how about you take us through the rules?”

“Of course, Steve.” David smiled, standing between Susie and Mark. “It fairly simple. As you can see behind us we have seven teams set up. The aim is for each team to take down the other team’s fort. The last fort standing wins.”

“That does, indeed, seem simple enough. Mark? How have the teams been set up today?”

“In the basis of giving everyone a fair chance we’ve mixed up the teams a bit. Initially we tried to go for driver nationalities but we hit a bit of an issue with that quickly so we had to get a bit inventive.”

“Susie? Could you walk us through the starting grid?”

“I certainly can, Steve.” Susie smiled, her hand subconsciously resting on the small bump that was starting to show at her stomach. “So, for Team Britain we have Lewis, Jenson and Jolyon. Team Deutschland sees on-track Champion Nico Rosberg pairing up with Sebastian, Nico “The Hulk” Hulkenberg, and Pascal. Team Español has Fernando, Carlos and honouree member Felipe Massa. Team Red Bull takes the rest of the Red Bull drivers: Daniel, Daniil and Max. Team Mexico sees Sergio “Checo” Perez with fellow countryman Esteban Guttierrez and honouree member Marcus. Team Cold has Kimi, Valtteri and Kevin. Finally, Team Français sees French-boys Romain and Esteban Ocon with honouree member Felipe Nasr.”

“There are a lot of honouree members in those teams, showing just how ‘inventive’ we got.” Steve said. “And as we get closer to lights out, we have time for a world from our expert. He’s been here before himself and he seems to know about everything in the paddock before the paddock does, Mr Eddie Jordan!” Steve announced, throwing an arm out towards Eddie. “So, Mr J, who do you think has the advantage here?”

“Well, Steve, I think today it is going to be difficult to say. Team Cold may have a weather advantage, we know that those guys are very acclimated to the cold weather we’ve got here. But Team Deutschland could pull it out of the bag with a decent strategy. Will it be a game of strategy or a game of luck? I don’t know but I am very excited to find out.”

“Thank you for that wonderful insight there, Eddie. Invaluable knowledge, really gives the whole competition a different vantage point.” Steve nodded, walking back up to the top of the raised platform they were stood on. “But, ladies and gentlemen, that time has come. The teams are ready on the start line, the data has been discussed, the strategies agreed on. There is nothing more to do now, but go racing.” Steve nodded, picking the dictaphone back up and turning to the frozen McLaren Technology Centre lake. “As usual, our World Class commentary will come from David Coulthard and Ben Edwards, with Lee McKenzie and Karun Chandock in the battle filed to get live reaction from the drivers.” Swapping the microphone for the dictaphone, Steve turned to the field.

“Is everybody ready?” A cheer came up from the playing field below him. A big smile climbed onto Steve’s face. “Alright then. On your marks, Get set…!” Steve set off the klaxon and the first Channel 4 Snowball Fight began.

Some of the teams went for the ambush tactic, sprinting out from behind their forts with arms full of snowballs. Other’s sat tight, putting off those advancing by throwing their snowballs directly at them. It didn’t take long for the different team tactics to start to show.

“Now, I think what’s interesting is they Red Bull tactic. They’ve all come out attaching, completely left their fort unattended.” Ben started, high above the action. David, beside him, nodded.

“I don’t know if I agree it’s unattended. Kvyat appears to be keeping a close circle to his fort. Maybe they’ve elected him as defence whilst the other two attach those around?”

“That will be interesting to see if that pays off. Have Red Bull shown their hand too early?”

“It’s too soon to say, although Max does appear to be having some difficulty with aim with all those snowballs in his hands.”

“Indeed… We’re going to go live to Lee, who apparently has some interesting information from the Team Deutschland fort?”

“Yes, Ben. This is remarkable really. I wonder if you can get a camera down to see but the organisation is incredible. The two world Champions have headed out onto the field to attach whilst The Hulk has been set up in defence. Pascal’s job seems to be to create as many snowballs as possible so that the Deutschland stash is never low.”

“Very organised. Not surprising in the slightest, it is something I was certainly expecting from Team Deutschland.” Eddie added.

“I think now would be a good time to mention the hit rule,” Steve said. “Mark, help our viewers understand the hit rule.”

“Righto, in fact if we get a close shot of JB here we might be about to see it in action… Yeah, alright, here we go. So what’s going to happen is Jenson is going to sneak up on the unsuspecting Nasr here… Watch this move, this is some classic Jenson right here… Bam! right in the back of the neck – that’s going to be bloody cold for young Nasr there – anyway, now we’ll see the hit rule come into play. So Nasr now has to return to his fort and sit out for five seconds cause he was hit. It’s a helpful rule for teams who are getting ambushed, means they can get some of the attackers out of the way-”

“-And sorry to interrupt, thanks for that, Mark, but it looks like Team Español and Team Britain are pairing up! It looks like Fernando, Carlos, Jenson and Lewis are on a charge for the Red Bull fort!”

“Now we’re going to get to see if that tactic from Kvyat is going to work… He’s circled back behind his fort now but oh this could be too late!”

“Interesting to see the teams pairing up,” Susie said as Jenson and Fernando pummelled the Red Bull fort with snowballs. “This early on in the game it could help but they’ll come a point where mutiny is going to happen.”

“I think you’re right there, Susie.” Steve agreed.

“And there it goes! Our first fort is down! Daniel and Max weren’t quick enough to get Team Español and Team Britain out of there and the fort has fallen!”

“Now we get to the disperse rule, Eddie?”

“Alright, so this is a final fort standing game, but to keep the game interesting and all players having a good time, once your fort falls the team disperses and goes and joins other forts. The only rule here is that two drivers cannot join the same fort unless it is mathematically not possible.”

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“It looks like Daniel Ricciardo has been dragged to Team Español by Massa… Kvyat has made the dash for Team Cold leaving Max looking a bit lost…”

“Oh, clever. He’s headed straight for Team Deutschland. I reckon they look pretty strong from down there.”

“And we’ve got Karun who’s managed to grab Daniel after the Red Bull fort has fallen.” Steve interjected. “Karun, what has Daniel got to say for us?”

“Understandably, Daniel is a little disappointed to be the first fort to fall. Tell us, Dan, how is it out there?”

“It’s bloody fantastic! I think I got Seb a couple of times and definitely hit Jenson more than once. Team Español seemed pretty keen to grab me as the fort fell so I must have been doing something right.”

“And being the first team eliminated, must be hard?”

“Well, no one wants to be the first to go but that’s just the way it falls sometimes. I’m looking forwards to helping this team achieve a bit more success than the last.”

“Thanks, Dan.”

“Always happy to give you a word, Daniel.” Susie smiled, watching as the snow carnage below continued.

“And straight back into the action. Not wasting another second with our Fort Gossip down there.”

“Though maybe there is a sabotage of sorts going on… We appear to have lost Lee.”

“I do think that’s Sebastian hitting her with snow balls…?”

“That’s four times now so a twenty second penalty for Lee?” Mark asked, looking at the rest of the team.

“She might want to start fighting back, get him some penalty time too.”

“I don’t know about you boys but I’m not happy leaving a damsel in distress there.” David said, getting to his feet. “Mark?”

“No, mate. That is bad etiquette from Mr Vettel there.”

“I think we need to step in. reinstate the rules.”

“I feel like we’re about to lose control.” Susie commented.

“I can tell you, viewers, that our own team of Mark and DC have entered the frey. Looks like the old-school boys are looking to show up the young ones. I guess this means there is a Team C4 now?”

“It looks like Team C4 is gaining another member; Steve has headed off down the hill in hot pursuit.” Eddie said, taking the seat next to Ben. “We may be about to lose the plot of the 2016 Annual Snowball Championship.”

“We will try and keep up with the live coverage of the Snowball fight but there is a chance we may even have to get into the playing field to get close enough for accurate coverage.”

“That is seconded, Ben… Plus our C4 team look to be falling apart at the seams.”

Susie rolled her eyes as the rest of the presenting team disappeared down towards the carnage. Lee had managed to get herself out of Sebastian’s onslaught and back up to the safety of the camera team. She took a seat next to Susie as the pair of them tried to make some sort of sense of the snowball carnage that was happening in front of them.

Really, what did the Channel 4 team expect was going to happen?


	6. How to Fail at Christmas Dinner [T]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian Vettel/Jenson Button

This certainly was not going well. Sebastian ran his hand through his hair as he continued stirring the pot he was working on. There was also another pot on the go and three different things in the oven. He was certainly losing track, if not his mind. His mother had gone on and on about timing and how timing was of the essence. He wished he’d have listened better now. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of pots and pans and timings.

Letting go of the spoon, Sebastian took a step back. He could do this. He was capable of cooking a dinner. It was all going to be fine. He had moved away from home and into his own place to prove himself. That was what he was doing. He managed to care and look after himself for three hundred and sixty-four days of the year, he could definitely do it today.

He was just cooking for more people, and a bigger dinner. That was all.

Taking another deep breath, Sebastian opened his eyes and stepped back over to the pot he had been working on. He found his place in the recipe book and carried on with his head held high. He could so do this. It was easy, simple. He did much more trivial things in his day-to-day life. Cooking a roast dinner was going to be fine.

A bleeper went off from across his small kitchen. Checking the mixture he was stirring, he crossed to the timer, stopping it. However, this was where he hit his next issue. Because, with two pots and three things in the oven at the same time, he had five timers set up. And for the life of him he didn’t know what this timer corresponded with.

 _It’s OK. Stay calm._ He said to himself, taking another reassuring deep breath. It was one of five things, he knew that much. Methodically, Sebastian set about checking everything. The turkey seemed fine and the potatoes looked fine. Were the vegetables done? Or were they supposed to be finishing at the same time as the potatoes? Wait, when was the stuffing supposed to be finished? Something cooked at the same length of time as something else but Sebastian couldn’t remember what that was. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. _Start from the beginning._

Whatever he had put in first must be the mystery thing that corresponded with the stopped timer in his hand. The first thing that went in was the turkey. But taking that out now? Whilst everything else was still cooking? Something didn’t feel right about that but it was the logical explanation and one that meant something wasn’t about to burn. Sebastian crouched down, opening the oven door.

Three knocks at the door had Sebastian shoot back to his feet. Was that them already? Where they already here?! Sebastian checked his watch. They weren’t supposed to arrive for another half hour! Had they come early? He couldn’t have his mother come in now whilst he was still trying to work out what the mysterious timer signalled was finished. The knocker knocked again.

“Just a second!” Sebastian called, his voice three pitches higher than normal. Ok, now was not the time to panic, but of course it was exactly what Sebastian was doing. He took a shaky breath, closing the oven door and leaving the turkey inside as he went to answer the door. He stuttered his walk a few times, glancing at himself in the mirror to check his hair as he passed. Resting a hand on the door handle, Sebastian took a steadying breath, opening it and planting the smile on his face in one swift motion.

“You have flour on your cheek. Cute apron.” The blonde at the door said. Sebastian was taken aback by his random comment and the fact it wasn’t his family ready to bombard him.

“Erm… Can I help you?” Sebastian asked, subconsciously rubbing at his cheek to get rid of the flour. The blonde cocked an eyebrow at him.

“I live next door.” He said. Sebastian blinked at him, waiting for him to carry on. “I could smell burning through the window and wanted to check you were OK.” The guy made to step inside but Sebastian pulled the door to, blocking his entry.

“Thanks for checking, I’m fine. That all?”

“At least let me-”

“-Really no trouble. I’m fine!” Sebastian smiled, though it looked a little deranged.

“Kid, I can smell you’re burning something. Move.” The blonde said, pushing Sebastian out the way. Sebastian went to protest but the blonde man was already in his kitchen. “How the fuck did you burn cranberry sauce?!” Sebastian gapped at the blonde as he picked up the pot that Sebastian had been stirring, turning off the hob and dropping the pan into the sink. He threw the window open and poured cold water into the pan, creating a hissing noise. “Just… How?!” The blonde asked, turning back to Sebastian. Sebastian looked around as if the answer would come to him.

“I… The timer… I didn’t know what…” Sebastian bit his lip. He wasn’t going to have a breakdown over cranberry sauce. Especially not in front of his random neighbour.

“Alright, shh. It’s just cranberry sauce.” The blonde said, rubbing Sebastian’s arms. “Be thankful it wasn’t your turkey. We can fix the cranberry sauce.”

“There is… So many timers…”

“I’m guessing it’s your first Christmas Dinner?” The blonde asked. Sebastian nodded, trying to dry his eyes subtly. “And maybe parents coming, got to impress?” Taking a deep breath, Sebastian nodded again, dropping his head. “Been there. Nearly took out a whole apartment building. Lost a set of curtains.”

“You…?”

“It’s not easy on your own. If you want, I’ll stay and help? I’ve got nothing on at the moment.” The blonde shrugged, cleaning out the burnt cranberry sauce. Sebastian shook his head.

“Why would you help me?”

“Can’t resist a damsel in distress.” The blonde winked. Sebastian blushed. “I’m Jenson.”

“Seb.” Sebastian said, taking the hand Jenson had held out to him. “And if it’s not too much trouble? I’d love some help. I’m following about six recipes-”

“-Ahh, first mistake.” Jenson said, drying up the pot.

“First?”

“Best recipe is up here.” Jenson said, tapping his head. Sebastian frowned.

“But-”

“-I learned the best way. Cooked with mum for a few years and just remembered what she did.”

“Did she take out many curtains?” Sebastian asked lightly. Jenson smiled a half smile at him.

“You know, that was quite funny. I’m gonna give you a brownie point for that.”

“I’m honoured.” Sebastian laughed, checking the other four timers.

“You should be. Enough brownie points and who knows what you can cash them in for.”

“Will keep that in mind.” Sebastian said, watching Jenson weight out a fresh batch of cranberries. The blonde seemed to be at home in the kitchen. Like some calm peace had settled on him. Sebastian was intrigued by it.

“OK, I’m going to get cracking on this sauce, how about you start on the Yorkshires?”

“Ok…” Sebastian nodded, stepping forward as if waiting to be directed. Jenson sent him a glance.

“You… Have you made Yorkshires before?”

“They’re the little bowl thingys you put gravy in, right?” Jenson frowned at Sebastian’s explanation. “Erm, no. Not made those.”

“Ok, we can work with that.” Jenson nodded, starting to stir the cranberries. “What’s left to do?” Sebastian looked around the kitchen.

“Erm…”

“Alright, hold on… Stir these.” Jenson instructed, handing Sebastian the wooden spoon he’d been stirring the cranberries with. Sebastian nodded, taking the spoon and stirring away. He watched Jenson as the blonde moved around the kitchen.

“Your veg needs more water or it’s going to boil dry. Turkey and stuffing are fine. Potatoes are nearly done so we’ll get them out and wrap them in foil. You carry on stirring, I’m going to get started on the Yorkshires.”

“Cool.” Sebastian was much more comfortable with this system of working, being told what to do. He worked so much better like this than when he was left to work on his own devices. That wasn’t to say it was impossible, he just preferred directions, especially when the task was one hundred per cent out of his comfort zone.

“So…” Jenson said, mixing the batter in the bowl. Sebastian looked over at him. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m training to be a car designer.” Sebastian said, dropping his eyes back to the cranberries.

“Woah! That’s cool.” Jenson nodded. “I’m impressed and intrigued.”

“Yeah…”

“I guess the parents aren’t?”

“They wish I would have done something a bit more… Reliable.”

“Reliable?”

“Yeah… Like an accountant or a lawyer or… Something boring.”

“Mmm…”

“Oh no you’re an accountant aren’t you. And I just called you boring.” Sebastian put his head in his hands. “I don’t think you’re boring. On first impressions you seem really nice and friendly and funny which is nice, more people should be funny, the world is too serious and stress. It needs to relax and kick off it’s shoes-”

“-Seb, don’t worry. Not an accountant.” Jenson smiled, adoring Sebastian’s cute rambling. Sebastian looked over at him.

“Then what-?”

“-Chef.” Jenson said. Sebastian smiled widely.

“Knew it.”

“I’m that obvious? Or do I still have flour in my hair? That shit gets everywhere.”

“No, no, I could just tell.” Sebastian told the cranberries as he bobbed them in and out of the water. Jenson looked over at him, placing the bowl down.

“Oh?”

“Your whole demeanour in the kitchen. You just look like you belong there.” Sebastian smiled. Jenson looked quite proud of that statement.

“Alright you, come here and learn how to make Yorkshires.” Jenson beckoned him over. Sebastian side glanced the cranberries.

“They gonna be OK?”

“We’ll be three seconds, they’ll be fine.” Jenson said, holding his hand out to Sebastian. Sebastian took it, allowing Jenson to pull him to his side. “Alright, you take the spoon and the bowl.” Jenson said, getting the muffin tray out of the cupboard. When he returned he stood behind Sebastian, wrapping his arms around the German to carry on working. Sebastian started to lose track of what was happening. It had been a long time since he had had anyone this physically close to him. Jenson’s aftershave was fogging Sebastian’s head.

“What’s in this?” Sebastian asked, forcing himself to focus. Jenson helped him lift the bowl and began scooping the mixture into the tray.

“You ever made pancakes?”

“Yes!” Sebastian exclaimed, causing Jenson to chuckle. It was a soft, deep sound that vibrated in his chest. Sebastian felt it across his back. “I have… Made pancakes.”

“The mixture for Yorkshires is the same but without sugar.”

“So just… Savoury pancakes?” Sebastian asked as Jenson put the Yorkshires into the oven. The Brit smiled at Sebastian.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it.” Jenson clapped his hands together. “Ok. So everything should be done now. The Yorkshires get five minutes and then we check on them, so we can start serving the table.”

“Sounds good.” Sebastian smiled. Together, Jenson and he set the table ready for his parents to come over. Sebastian was feeling a lot better about the meal now, knowing that everything was getting a professional chef’s checking. He, once again, found himself staring at Jenson as he worked with the food, besotted with what he was doing.

“Your first Christmas dinner looks good, Seb.” Jenson praised as Sebastian took photo on his phone of the spread. His parents were due to be here any moment. “Your reward is a shit tonne of washing up.” Jenson teased.

“Lucky me.” Sebastian said sarcastically. “But, technically this isn’t my Christmas dinner. You helped too.”

“But if your parents ever ask I have no idea.” Jenson said, feigning not to know what anything in the kitchen was. “What is cranberry sauce? That’s got apples in it, right?” Sebastian playfully hit Jenson’s arm.

“What I was getting at was thank you for your help.”

“You’re very welcome. Next time you want me over just, don’t use the cranberries.” Jenson joked. “They’ve had enough torture from you.”

“My cranberry sauce looks spectacular, thank you.” Sebastian said proudly, touching the little bowl with the red sauce in it tenderly. Jenson smiled at him.

“Well, it was lovely cooking with you. I hope to do it again sometime. Have a nice meal.” Jenson nodded, heading for the door. He didn’t want to outstay his welcome.

“Wait!” Sebastian called, following Jenson towards the door. He touched Jenson’s shoulder before dropping his arm and holding onto his wrist. Jenson looked down at Sebastian’s hand. “Stay?”

“Oh, Seb, that’s very kind but you don’t want me hanging around.”

“I do.” Sebastian said, blushing cutely. “You… You helped. We should share the praise.”

“Seb-”

“-Unless you have other plans then sure. You can go and enjoy them. I’m sure your girlfriend will love what every you’re doing. Lucky girl, you should tell her. Or no, don’t, she probably already knows. And she probably doesn’t burn the cranberry sauce-”

“-Seb, I’d love to stay.” Jenson grinned, cupping Sebastian’s cheek to stop him talking. “I don’t want to impose-”

“-It’s not imposing.” Sebastian beamed.

“What are you going to tell your parents?”

“My neighbour saved me. I’m repaying him with dinner.” Sebastian shrugged.

“Hmm… Maybe I want repaying in a different way.” Jenson said, moving back into the flat with Sebastian. Sebastian moved back into the kitchen and selected a bottle of wine.

“Oh? How might that be?”

“I certainly don’t think your parents will want to see _that_ kind of repayment.”

“I see.” Sebastian said, popping the cork. “My mother warmed me about boys like you.”

“Did she?” Jenson asked as Sebastian poured out two glasses of wine.

“Mmm… Said not to be pulled in by their charms.”

“I have been told I can be very charming.” Jenson agreed, taking his glass.

“So, you help me cook dinner and now?”

“And now I’d love to take you on a date.” Jenson said, breaking off their little joke. Sebastian blinked at him. “If you want-”

“-Yes.” Sebastian said quickly. It made Jenson laugh.

“You’re eager.” Sebastian blushed a deep red.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be.” Jenson said, lifting his glass in a toast. “To new friends.”

“To saving cranberries.” Sebastian added, causing a beautiful laugh to grace Jenson’s face before they clinked glasses.


End file.
